Thanks MyLadyDay and Vergina-spva for beta'ing


Chapter 12

Izo woke up when the door of his room was opened. He turned around, blinking sleepily.

"Shh, it's only me," Thatch's voice whispered.

"I should hope so," Izo muttered and pulled the blanket further over himself. If it was someone else, after all, Izo would have an unwanted guest and he would have to take care of that. He moved over when Thatch lifted up the blanket to crawl into his bed.

After they had come to Izo's house, Izo had made up his guest room, which was rarely used. Usually, he didn't mind Thatch sharing his bed, he liked it even, but since Thatch would stay for more than one night, Izo had figured it would be better if he had his own room.

"Is something wrong?" he asked yawning.

"Nah. Just go back to sleep," Thatch whispered as he made himself comfortable, but Izo knew something was up.

He sat up and turned on the light on his nightstand. "I'm awake now anyway. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Thatch played with the blankets and didn't look at Izo.

"Thatch."

He sighed and rolled onto his back. "I just had a nightmare, okay?"

He was probably waiting for Izo to laugh at him and call him a child, but Izo knew better than that. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked instead.

Thatch sighed and stared at the ceiling for a while before he replied. "I guess it's because of what I saw today. In my dream, I could see myself lying there, like I left my body or something, and you were next to me. You were so upset and trying to wake me up, and I yelled I was okay, but you couldn't hear me and…" He swallowed and took a shaky breath. "Suddenly… Suddenly, our roles were reversed and you were lying there. There was so much blood…" He choked back a sob. "I just needed to see that you were okay, I guess," he concluded.

Izo wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. "I am okay, Thatch. And so are you."

Thatch nodded, his face hidden in the crook of Izo's neck.

Izo kept holding him and caressing his hair until he had fallen asleep.


While Izo loved to sleep in, he had set his alarm early the next morning, because he had a client coming. He woke up at the first tone, hastily turning it off before Thatch woke as well. Thatch just continued snoring, fortunately.

When Izo tried to slip out of his hold, he felt something press up against him and rolled his eyes. Was Thatch not getting a bit too old for morning wood? It wasn't the first time it had happened to either of them, and Izo was just glad he was usually the little spoon in their arrangement.

Thatch's hold around his waist was rather tight, however, but Izo managed to escape it in the end. He quickly showered and got dressed. Thatch still hadn't woken up.

It was only when Izo was eating his breakfast while reading the paper that Thatch came down the stairs. He actually managed without any help from Izo, but was sitting in his wheelchair that had been standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at the bowl of cereal in front of Izo like it had personally offended him. "You could have woken me. I'd have made you breakfast," he said indignantly.

"You know I would have preferred your cooking, but I didn't want to wake you," Izo said as he brought the dirty dishes to the sink. "You can make me lunch, okay?"

Thatch huffed, but didn't reply.

"I have a client coming today, but I can take you to Whitey this afternoon," Izo continued imperturbable. Thatch had made an appointment with her, on Izo's insistence, so he could start talking about and deal with his trauma.

Thatch just hummed in reply.

The doorbell rang, and Izo hastened to answer. On the doorstep, a blond man was standing. Cavendish was one of the most beautiful people Izo had ever seen, so he was thrilled to be able to paint him. Canvendish's personality left something to be desired, though, because he knew he was beautiful, which made him a tad narcissistic. Fortunately, being a narcissist and rich was a good combination for someone with Izo's profession, because it meant he could paint and draw Cavendish a lot.

Thatch was in the kitchen making his own breakfast and was singing loudly while doing it. Izo had to suppress a smile. The fact that he was singing meant Thatch was on the way to recovery.

"That's my brother," Izo said when Cavendish asked about it. "He's staying with me for a while, but he won't be in the way. Come, I'll show you to my studio."

Izo had had many models in his studio, his brothers and Pops included. He had made a painting of all of them separately, which hung permanently in all of his expositions. His clients often posed for him themselves, but sometimes sent a professional model. Those were easiest to work with, as they were used to sitting still for a long time, but Izo didn't mind a challenge every once in a while. He had drawn Ace as well, before he and Marco had started going out. Those had been nude charcoal drawings, and Izo had had a lot of fun by sending Marco, already head over heels with Ace, one of them. Art was meant to be shared after all.

Cavendish was a great model, but he was a professional after all, and a famous one at that. It explained his narcissistic tendencies a bit. Izo didn't doubt his house was already full of pictures of himself, but a painting would be more classy.

Izo was working on different sketches to see which pose pleased Cavendish the most when the door to his studio opened. Thatch came inside, seated in his wheelchair. Because he had only one good arm, he seemed to have trouble moving forward.

"Thatch, I told you I have a client," Izo said, disturbed, without looking up from his drawing.

"I know, but I'm bored. Can I watch?" Thatch asked with a hint of a whine in his voice.

Cavendish looked displeased.

Izo placed his sketchbook on his lap and turned to Thatch. "You'll only distract me. You're going to have to entertain yourself."

"How?" It was an actual whine this time.

"I don't know, how do you usually pass the time?"

"Working or hanging with friends. Or with you," Thatch added accusingly.

Izo sighed and picked up his sketchbook again. "Well, you can't stay here. Go watch TV or read a book or something."

"Fine!" With a huff, Thatch left the room.

Much to his surprise and confusion, Izo could actually work several hours undisturbed. It worried him. Nothing would have happened to Thatch, would it? When Cavendish announced he had to go to a photoshoot, Izo hastily saw him to the door, before he all but ran to the living room.

There, he found Thatch lying on the couch with a book.

Izo sighed in relief. "I thought something happened when you didn't came to bother me."

Thatch didn't stir and continued reading.

Izo narrowed his eyes. If there was something he didn't like, it was being ignored. "Thatch!" he called.

Finally, Thatch looked up, blinking like he just woke up. "Huh? Oh, has your client left yet?"

Izo rolled his eyes, but had trouble suppressing a smile. It wasn't often Thatch was so engrossed in a book that he didn't notice his surroundings anymore. He seemed genuinely surprised, which negated Izo's suspicion that he was punishing Izo for brushing him off before. "He has, and I expected lunch by now."

"What time is it?" Thatch looked at the clock and laughed sheepishly. "Oh, I guess I lost track of it. I followed your advice and picked out a book. It's Treasure Island. I forgot how much I loved this as a kid." He grinned excitedly.

Izo had to smile when he recalled it as well. Thatch wasn't much of a reader, but he had devoured Treasure Island over and over. He always had had a thing with pirates. "That's good. I was beginning to suspect that you were ignoring me on purpose."

"To be honest, I was planning on it, because you're no fun," Thatch said, pouting, "but then I found this book."

Izo snorted, but refrained from commenting. "So, lunch?" he asked.

"Right." Thatch placed a piece of paper between the pages as a bookmark and hastened himself to the kitchen.


That evening, Marco and Ace came over for dinner, so after Thatch came back from Whitey, he immediately headed for the kitchen. Izo used the time before dinner to continue on a painting that had been waiting since Thatch's coma. His last exhibition had been a great success, and now that Thatch was awake, Izo felt like painting again. Softly humming, he applied colours until he heard the doorbell.

Dinner was nice. Marco lived in the same street, and Ace lived with his brother a few blocks away, though he spent a lot of time at Marco's place. Watching them all talk during dinner, his family, if only a part, Izo couldn't help but smile. Thatch noticed and smiled back.

After dinner, Izo stood to take away the dishes and make coffee. Ace helped him bring them to the kitchen. When they were alone, Ace asked, "So, how are you?"

Izo opened the dishwasher and started loading the dishes in. "I'm fine."

"You know what I mean."

Izo straightened and leaned against the counter. "Shouldn't you be more worried about your relationship? You recently broke up and then the incident with Thatch happened."

"Marco and I are fine," Ace said. "We're taking it slow. But isn't it weird living with Thatch?"

"You seem to forget that I've lived with him in one house for ten years." Izo continued loading in the dishwasher.

"Yeah, but now you're living alone with him."

Izo sighed. "Look, Ace, I appreciate your concern, I really do." He eyed the kitchen door for a moment as if he feared someone would come through. When that didn't happen, he continued, "But I've lived with this secret for sixteen years. I can handle it."

Ace crossed his arms before his bare chest, even though it was winter. "That doesn't mean you're okay." He kept silent for a moment before he asked quietly, "Can I ask… Why have you never told him?"

Izo shut the dishwasher and started to make coffee. Finally, he sighed. "If I did, do you know what would happen? Thatch would feel incredibly guilty, but he would also try to keep our relationship the same. It wouldn't work, and then we would only see each other at Christmas."

"What about all the birthdays?" Ace asked.

Izo sighed again. "You know what I mean. It wouldn't work. Now, at least I'm the only one who feels bad. There's no need to add to anyone's misery."

Ace's bottom lip stuck out a little, and Izo raised an eyebrow when he realised he was actually pouting. "He might feel the same, you know."

"Ace, I know you want everyone to have the same kind of happy ending as you have, but you're forgetting two really important things. One, Thatch and I are brothers. That's what I am to him."

"You all say I'm part of the family now," Ace objected. "So technically, Marco and I are brothers as well."

Izo smiled softly. "Yes, but we grew up together. It's different. Secondly, he's straight. I know you don't make a distinction between genders when it comes to sexual partners, but some people do. And you can't change that." Izo leaned against the counter again and closed his eyes for a second. Suddenly, he felt two arms wrapping around him. Opening his eyes, he smiled as he caressed Ace's hair. He realised how frustrating it had to be for Ace, to see one of his friends unhappy. After a while, Ace let go of him and helped him take the coffee to the dining room.

Marco and Ace left around eleven. With a content sigh, Izo let himself fall on the couch, and Thatch soon joined him, holding two glasses of champagne awkwardly in one hand.

Izo raised his eyebrows when he saw them, but took one hastily anyway, afraid they would fall. They rarely drank champagne, only if there was something to celebrate. He didn't even think he owned a bottle of champagne, so Thatch had to have brought it. "To what do I owe this?"

"I just wanted to do something special," Thatch said with a shrug. "Because you took me in and all."

"Thatch, I told you," Izo started, but Thatch waved his objections away.

"To our first day of living together, eh?" he said with a grin as he raised his glass.

"I'll drink to that," Izo said, smiling. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he added jokingly.

Thatch laughed as their glasses chimed together.